When Worlds Collide
by PlainSimpleGarak
Summary: What if Shredder and Krang opened one of those pesky dimensional portals and sent the 1987 Cartoon turtles to the 2003 Cartoon world? This is a humorous look at when worlds and brothers collide and have to work together. In progress, reviews welcomed.
1. Unreality TV

**Author's Note**: This is a crack-brained idea, I'll admit; but what if the cast of the 1987 Turtle's cartoon fell into one of those dimensional portals that were so often cropping up and ended up in the universe of… the 2003 cartoon?!

Heck, I figured I already have a serious work in progress; I can post the doofy one too. That being said this is an actual story and not a parody.

For ease of writing and reading and to distinguish two sets of Turtles, the boys from the 1987 series are called by their full names (because they always used full names in that 'toon.) The ones in the 2003 series are called Leo, Don/Donnie, Raph and Mike/Mikey.

**Caveat**: I matured the 1987 cast a little for dramatic purposes once they hit the 2003 cartoon universe; that and I can't handle the 80's 'toon logic for more than a chapter or so. That being said this is a humorous story with a splash of drama rather than vice versa.

I tried to make anything set in the 1987 cartoonverse sound like the old cartoon; when everyone moves to the 2003 cartoonverse the style changes somewhat – consider it the effect of being transplanted and our turtle heroes taking on the demeanor that befits this strange new world.

Yes, the physics in the old cartoonverse don't make sense. Did they ever?

UPDATES: Updating again after 5 months offline (That's a long time!)

I found a chunk of notebook paper with some scrawls on it that I had forgot to type into "Face to Face" so that chapter has about 2 extra paragraphs of prose in it, but nothing that really changes the story. Many thanks to reviewers who pointed out editing/grammar errors; some chapters are updated to reflect editing corrections.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own the turtles in either cartoon franchise, but I sure had a heck of a good time writing this!

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**The lair: 1987 Cartoonverse**

"Hey Donatello, what'cha up to?" Raphael's voice was bright and brash as he strolled into the living room, carrying a bowl of cereal.

"Shhh!" The purple clad turtle waved his hand at his brother. "I need to concentrate. I'm putting the finishing touches on my automatic dairy churner."

"Automatic…dairy…churner?" Raphael gave a chuckle. "What does it do? Milk it for all it's worth?"

Donatello gave a huffing sigh. "That's not funny." Walking around to the front, he grabbed a gallon of milk from the fridge and pulled the tab on it. "Actually it should be pretty useful. Remember when Michelangelo tried making cheese that one time?"

"Well, my brain tried to forget by my nose stills remembers." The red clad brother replied, flopping down on the couch, carefully balancing the cereal like an acrobat.

"I figured that if I could make a machine that properly controlled pressure, humidity and temperature I could invent something that would automatically make a whole assortment of dairy products. Cheese, yogurt, ice cream, anything." Donatello smiled and pulled the hulking silver contraption towards him, pouring the milk down a funnel.

"Fascinating." Raphael replied, starting to channel surf.

"Actually it was quite simple." Donatello flicked the machine on and it started to hum contentedly as he walked over. "I had a spare part left over from when I fixed the turtle van's cooling system, and I paired it with the heating coil from a 1960s salon hairdryer…"

"I don't even want to know where you got that."

"It was in the dump" the resident inventor sighed as he settled himself in a chair. Sometimes his brothers just didn't understand how important it was to experiment. Actually it wasn't sometimes. It was almost never. "I found the refrigerator parts there as well. When I linked them to the heating coils, I found if I could add a regulator I could create constant condensation."

"Uh huh." Raphael nodded, zoning out. "April's on."

"After that it was just a matter of wiring in some timers and heat controls…"

"Earth to Donatello! April's on!"

Donatello frowned a bit, leaning back to watch the TV. Raphael smiled at the sudden silence and propped himself up on one elbow to get a better view.

April was speaking in an animated tone, standing on the pavement outside a large industrial building. _I am at the laboratories of OnAirTek, the city's leader in television broadcasting technology. Speaking with me is Dr. Otto Von Frankengerman, head researcher into 'complete immersion reality television.' Hello Dr. Frankengerman!_

A tall man tottered forward, adjusting his spectacles. He had great bushy shocks of dark hair sticking out on either side of a very bald forehead. When he spoke he had a wheezy German accent. _I am pleased that the city has taken such an interest in our project here, Miss O'Neill._

_Doctor, can you tell us a little more about your invention?_

Donatello edged forward on his seat, eyes widening as the doctor started to explain his latest invention. _Complete Immersion Reality Television vill be the next wave in television viewing. Through use of a special signal, ve vill be able to project television images directly into viewers homes, creating a three dimensional holographic projection. It vill look and feel as if you are actually in the show!_

"Wow, I wonder if that'll mean Surfing With Kangaroos will splash into this living room…literally" Raphael pondered gleefully.

Beside him his brother was far more ponderous. "Wow, I wonder what kind of transmitter he uses"

_And when will we be able to see this technology in use, Dr. Frankengerman_? April was asking.

_Vell, not for a few more months, but as a special introduction ve are running a test signal tonight. Any viewers wishing to see a preview of what they vill experience should tune in to channel 48 at ten o'clock this evening_. The Doctor smiled serenely as the camera panned back to April.

_There you have it folks, the future of television viewing_!

Raphael turned towards Donatello. "Channel 48 at ten. We can't miss it."

"But we don't get channel 48. We can't pick it up down here." Donatello mused, stroking his chin. "Though if I rewired the antennae through the transceiver array for the dimensional portal, I bet we could bump up the signal strength and catch it."

The turtle in red screwed up his face a little at the jumble of words. "Meaning we won't miss it?"

Donatello gave a soft sigh. "Yes, meaning we won't miss it."

**xXx**

**The Technodrome: Dimension X**

"Shredder! Come look at this!" Krang's raspy voice pierced the sluggish halls of the technodrome. On cue the chrome-domed villain appeared.

"Krang, what are you cooking up this time?" Shredder sounded annoyed as he clambered up the metal steps and peered over Krang's android body to get a better look at the viewscreen.

"I just received this transmission from Earth!" He lashed out a tentacle and hit 'play' on April's interview with Dr. Frankengerman.

"April O'Neill?!" Shredder started, outraged.

"Listen for a second, Shredder. Do you realize what we could do with that Complete Immersion Reality Television device?" Krang turned to eye him.

"We could steal it and unleash it on the Turtles! If they are immersed in reality TV they will be easy to crush!" He emphasized his point by making a fist and shaking it in midair.

"Do you ever think about anything but those accursed Turtles?" The evil alien griped. "Actually, I was thinking more of powering up the Technodrome!"

Shredder stroked his chin for a few seconds. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Easy, Shredder. If we can attach one of these motherboard components of the alien ship we salvaged to the Complete Immersion Reality Television device we can control the power output. The more people who tune in to the program, the more power we can drain and siphon back to the Technodrome." Krang's voice dropped off as he completed his sentence. "All we have to do is link the device with our dimensional portal!"

Shredder clasped his hands together. "And while we siphon power, I can open up a portal. Then while the Turtles are mesmerized by the program and I can destroy them!"

"Here." Krang turned, placing a heavy chunk of computer equipment into Shredder's hands. Don't screw this up, Shredder. All you have to do is attach this device to the base of the television transmitter, and make sure you plug this into the input slot."

Shredder accepted the piece, without really taking the time to listen to Krang. "Bebop! Rocksteady! Come on, we have work to do!" The two ugly mutants hoisted their guns and followed at the tails of Shredder's long purple cloak.

**xXx**

**The Lair: 1987 Cartoonverse**

With channel 48 flickering steadily in front of them, Donatello fiddled with the antennae while Michelangelo passed out plates and slices of pizza. "So this is Complete Gnarly Mondoso Television?" the youngest was asking.

"Complete Immersion Reality Television." Donatello corrected.

"How did you guys find out about this?" Leonardo asked, taking a seat beside Raphael on the couch.

"April was talking about it on the news." Raphael commented, pulling a string of cheese off his pizza.

"We missed April? Bummer." Michelangelo sounded dejected as he sat beside Leonardo; though that dejection soon faded as he began cramming pizza into his mouth.

"Any idea on what they're going to broadcast?" The eldest brother asked, fixing a napkin at the top of his plastron before he started to eat.

"It's just a test run." Donatello finished propping up the antennae. Through the static they could start to make out the familiar yellow jumpsuit of April O'Neil standing in front of the OnAirTek logo, introducing the Doctor once again.

_As you see here we have a live sound stage set up for this very special broadcast!_ April was saying. _The Clarke City Dancers are coming on stage at this very second, and we will be starting with normal television projection…_ A group of dancers with bright orange tights and fancy headdresses trotted onstage and started dancing. _Now, at this very moment we will be projecting their images with Complete Immersion Reality Television!_ The screen flickered a bit, and the TV gave off a soft hum. Slowly the dancers started to materialize, apparently dancing directly in front of them.

"Whoah!" Michelangelo commented, reaching forward. "It's like reach out and touch someone!" But as he got close enough to tap the leg of the nearest dancer his fingers passed directly through "Or not."

"This is great!" Donatello commented, grinning.

It was Leonardo who was keeping the keenest watch. "Hey, what's that in the background? It looks familiar." He pointed past the dancers to something moving behind the sound stage.

Raphael's eyes widened as his brother called their attention. "It's… Bebop and Rocksteady!"

"What are they doing there, dude?" Michelangelo asked, frowning.

"They have to be up to no good." Leonardo replied, frowning. "We need to tell April."

As if someone had read his mind there was a blast and one of the lights fell from the grid of the soundstage and smashed onto the floor. The dancers screamed and scattered. From behind the curtain a familiar purple caped face appeared, and all four Turtles chorused in unison "Shredder!"

_Greetings, people of Earth_. _I am Master Shredder and I am about to introduce you to the newest wave of technology, Complete Immersion Anxiety Television!_ He chuckled evilly and pushed a button on the console in his hand. Where the dancers had stood, Bebop and Rocksteady slowly materialized.

All four turtles looked at one another in alarm. Behind them, the TV started making an odd pitched whining noise and Donatello's dimensional portal started to flicker and hum; but the Turtle's were far too absorbed in the sudden appearance of enemies in their lair to really notice. Bebop and Rocksteady smashed their fists in their palms menacingly.

"Don't worry, they aren't really here; remember when Michelangelo tried to touch one of the dancers?" Donatello reminded them.

Bebop lifted one of his massive legs and smashed it down into the middle of the Turtle's coffee table, splintering it into two pieces.

"Say that again, Donatello…" Raphael muttered.

Rocksteady moved forward, punching blindly ahead of him, connecting with the wall. Donatello frowned. "They must still be in the station, but whatever Shredder did to the broadcast solidified them!"

"So they can't see us, Dude, but they're still trashing our place?" Michelangelo yelled, reaching for his nunchukus.

"Exactly." Leonardo replied, keeping a steady distance. Bebop was moving his heavy form forward, using a bat to swing randomly at things. One particularly wild swing clipped the table, sending Donatello's new Dairy Machine flying.

"Hey, my invention…" he cried with dismay, narrowly avoiding one of Rocksteady's punches.

"I think we've got bigger problems to worry about than ice cream, Dude." Michelangelo quipped, trying to hit the giant rhinoceros over the head.

"Is it just me or do these guys fight better when they can't see us?" Raphael retorted dryly, blocking a kick with his sais.

"If we hit them, does it hurt them?" Leonardo asked.

As if in reply Donatello swung his bo staff around and clocked Rocksteady cleanly on the head. The massive mutant stumbled backwards looking confused, muttering _Owwww._ "I think that's a yes." The purple wearing turtle replied.

"Allright, then let's kick some shell." Raphael cried, jumping up to plant a kick right in Bebop's face, but he wasn't so lucky. Bebop turned just at the right moment to check on Rocksteady, and Raphael's kick landed beside him, just close enough for Bebop to feel it.

_I think it's those miserable Turtles_. Bebop groused and reached out blindly to grab at what moved past him. _They're like invisible ninjas! But I got one!_ His meaty hands clasped around Raphael's chest and he flung him off to one side. In the lair Raphael grumbled as he was caught up, and suddenly had the sick sensation of spinning in midair.

"Raphael!" Leonardo shouted, running towards his younger brother as he went shell first towards the wall. But in between him and the brick stood Donatello's portal, humming weakly and flickering with light. Raphael was making a strangled yelp when the glimmering field of the portal swallowed him up. He never hit the wall behind it. He simply… disappeared.

The television started making a high-pitched whine and the portal let off a great deal of smoke. All at the same time, the light flickered and both television and portal made a grating sound and went dead. Bebop and Rocksteady faded from their living room, leaving three very confused turtles standing there.

"What was that?" Michelangelo asked, picking himself up off the floor, and rubbing his head.

"Where's Raphael?" Leonardo asked, concerned. "Raphael? Raphael!"

They looked everywhere, but Raphael was gone.


	2. Unusual Duplication

**The Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

Mikey sat there, crunching on some really good gourmet chips he had found in the back of the cupboard, playing Mortal Kombat, irritated that he couldn't get past Scorpion. After losing for the fifth time he bit his bottom lip, glaring at the controller before turning to pet his cat. "Yanno, Klunk? I think my controller might be broken." Klunk didn't reply, he just looked up and purred.

Bored, Mike stretched and looked around, pondering if he should swap for some Katamari Damacy and weighing how quickly Raph would try to beat him if he turned the volume up to 40. It bothered him how quiet the lair was today. No practice on Sunday and Leo was off with Master Splinter. Donnie was in his lab tinkering and Raph was doing whatever Raph did when he wanted to be left alone. "I wish you knew how to play video games." He said to Klunk as he stood.

"mrow?" Klunk stood, arching his back.

"You don't have thumbs, Klunk…" Mikey explained gently, pausing to pet him some more.

There was a lingering pause in the silence and then a crackling sound like static interference. Mike frowned, walking over to the TV and giving it a firm thunk on the top of the box. When the noise continued he bit his lip. "That usually works…" he murmured, flicking both the PS2 and the television off. Still the noise continued.

Klunk stood, stretching and making soft yeowling sounds. Mike started to look around, wondering if the noise was bothering Don or Raph when there was a loud crash, similar to the sound of Raph knocking the punching bag off the hanger and into the wall, followed by the sound of shelves breaking and things falling. The youngest turtle snapped his head around, eyes wide, and stared.

"Raph, did you just do that?" he called out, wondering if he had missed some sort of temper tantrum elsewhere. The static crackling faded away.

"Did what? What the hell are you talkin' about Mikey?" Mike snapped his head around, surprised that his older brother's voice came from the exact opposite direction. Raph stalked out of his room, looking annoyed.

"Did you guys hear that?" Don asked, hustling up, his eyes oddly distorted by the goggles he was wearing. Mike stifled a chuckle.

Raph put his hands on his hips. "What are you two hearing?"

His youngest brother let his eyes widen. "Something crashed into the library, I thought it was you throwing something!"

"Thanks, Mikey. I'm not the only one who causes breakage around here." The red clad brother groused, glaring at him.

"You do cause your fair share." Don mused. Before Raph could get too ticked off he added, "but I heard it too. We should check out what happened."

There wasn't much that either brother could argue with that, and Mikey shuffled off first towards the library. Raph stopped for a few seconds and grabbed his sais before following.

---

The library itself looked like a giant wrecking ball swung through it; or in this case a mutant turtle, shell first. Raphael had tucked, expecting to hit the wall and roll, but when the wall wasn't quite there he moved, trying to regain his bearings and ended up hitting the bookshelf…hard. Now he found himself underneath the bookshelf trying to collect his senses, wondering why there were books everywhere.

Something was wrong, and it was something he couldn't quite define. Subtly everything was different. The air was heavier, it smelled a bit more foul. The lights were darker, even the colors were greyer. That and his head hurt steadily.

"Check this out!" Mike's voice was filled with concerned wonder as he looked inside at the mess of books. "What happened?"

His brainy brother looked in a furrowed his brow. "Looks like the bookshelf just…fell over."

"I don't think so." Always slightly paranoid Raph bit his bottom lip as his dark eyes searched the room. "Somethin's moving under there." His observation made all three brothers tense. Seeing as he was the only one currently armed, Raph pushed past his brothers and stepped forward. Whatever or whoever it was, the books were moving like a human might be underneath but it was hard to see details. Raph didn't mince words. "Who the hell are you?"

Under the shelf Raphael groaned a little, trying to get his vision to clear. That voice sounded stunningly familiar and stunningly alien all at the same time. "Who's asking?" he quipped back.

"Not funny." The hotheaded brother growled, reaching down to pick the intruder up out of the books. Behind him Don held up a hand.

"It could be a trap, Raph."

"It could, but I'm sick of this game." He reached in and pulled up the scrap of fabric his fingers found before nearly dropping it again. "What in the shell?!"

_Raph_. Raphael thought. _Is that Donatello_? He blinked, hoping his vision would clear and someone grabbed him by the scruff of his bandana, pulling him upwards. When it did clear, he rather wished it would go back to foggy. His brothers were standing there, staring at him as if he had three heads. _Hokay, first things first, find feet_. He brought his feet up under him as took a good second look around. His brothers were starting to circle him, defensive. Raph had his weapons bared. _Raph? Wait a second… Michelangelo, Donatello… Raphael? Is that right? The only one left is Leonardo… and I'm not Leonardo. At least I don't think so…I didn't hit my head that hard._ The confusion was clearly etched on Raphael's face, and it prompted his counterpart to glare at him.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked again in a low growling tone, pushing his chest forward and spreading his shoulders to make himself look as physically big as possible.

The slightly smaller Raphael blinked once again. "Raphael?" he said it with a hint of a grin, as if wondering when the bad prank would end.

"That's not possible." Raph glared keeping the points of his sais leveled evenly at the intruding turtle. He indulged a quick look towards Don to confirm that.

The purple clad turtle paced slightly, rubbing his temple. "It could be a trick… or a clone."

"Or a robot." Mike added, seriously.

"If it's a robot I'm going to dismantle him." To punctuate his threat Raph glowered at his counterpart.

"Um, guys, this just isn't funny anymore…" Raphael protested, shifting from foot to foot, feeling a nagging headache creeping on.

"This didn't start funny," the annoyed mirror of him snarled.

Don shook his head and walked up, inspecting Raphael. "I don't know. Remember when we were in the Triceraton prison? They took detailed scans of all of us. It's conceivable they could have created clones from our DNA samples."

"Or a robot!" Mikey added again.

"Look, Mikey, it's not a freakin' robot!" Raph rolled his eyes and grabbed his counterpart's hand before the slightly smaller turtle had a chance to dodge. Raking the point of his sai across the back of his hand he was satisfied to see blood welling up. "See?!"

"Ow!" Raphael complained and frowned, using his off hand to punch Raph in the shoulder before he really thought of the consequences of such a move.

Wordlessly Raph glared at him and returned the punch, straight to his beak. Raphael's head snapped around, and he muttered lightly to himself, "Ok, so that wasn't a smart move."

"You bet your ass it wasn't a smart move!" Raph leaned over to glower once again, insinuating that robot or no, he would dismantle him if he made another move.

"What if I said I could explain?" Raphael started before he frowned. _When in truth I can't. Maybe I should have listened to Donatello's lectures a bit more carefully_?

"Well, where did you come from?" Mike asked, sounding curious.

"Umm. How do I put this?" It hadn't struck him before how outrageous his explanation was going to sound. "Shredder used an experimental technology to project a couple of goons into the lair through the television, and I think I got kicked through the portal…"

"Not only is he a clone, but he's a stupid one, too." The hotheaded brother quipped as he paced.

Mikey bit his lip, finding a chair. "I think it makes sense."

"You would." His elder brother groused.

Behind him Donnie sighed. "We have been through a dimensional portal in our travels before…it is possible." He took in a long deep breath before adding, "Maybe we should wait until Master Splinter arrives and we can talk about this."

Raph pointed his sai at his intruding counterpart. "And what in the shell do we do with him?"

Donatello shrugged a little bit, watching his brothers before letting his attention drift back to Raphael. "Well, unless he suddenly decides to attack, I'd just keep him here. Perhaps you two should guard him?"

"Oh, maybe he can pick up the books!" Mikey grinned a little bit, figuring that otherwise he would get stuck with that particular job.

Raph stared at his youngest brother and gave a grudging nod. "That's not a half bad idea." He kept his sais pointedly trained at the newcomer.

Raphael rolled his eyes slightly, but in the interest of not being punched again he kept any comments to himself, slowly piling books up, hoping that when all was said and done he could get some aspirin.


	3. Everything's Better with Shredder

**Author's Notes:** I wasn't going to have another fight with Shredder; but I decided it wasn't the old 'toon unless April needs a rescue, so let the 80's inspired madness ensue!

* * *

**The Lair: 1987 Cartoonverse**

Michelangelo stared at the wall where the portal stood, his jaw slightly open. "Where's Raphael?" It was the question nobody wanted to hear.

"I think he fell through the portal." Leonardo replied, gingerly touching the control panel to see if it would flicker back to life. The portal stared back at him, aggravatingly inert.

Donatello shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "That's not possible, the portal's broken. I haven't been able to fix it yet."

"But you saw it flicker to life, Dude." The orange clad turtle kept searching behind the portal and in the other rooms of the lair in hopes that his older brother might magically turn up.

"I did, but there had to be something more to it." The inventor mused, starting to pace. "I don't think it started to glow until Shredder took over the broadcast."

"Maybe one of Shredder's machines…" Michelangelo started, cutting himself off as Leonardo's communicator went off.

"Shh, it's April." The leader waved his hand, making his brothers fall silent. "Go ahead, April."

_Guys, did you see the broadcast?_ Her voice sounded somewhat panicked.

"We sure did, Dudette." Michelangelo started.

"He ended up projecting Bebop and Rocksteady into our lair." Leonardo finished. "Is he still in the broadcasting area?"

_Yes, and he's mad that the broadcast was shut down, so he's taking hostages!_ She sounded breathless on the other end, as if she was running. _You guys need to get here, quick!_

"Are you alright, April?" the leader's voice was concerned, and his brothers started to lean in over his shoulders. The communicator signal crackled and went dead. "April!" Looking to his brothers he snapped his communicator shut. "Come on, we have to get Channel 48 right away!"

"What about Raphael, dude?" Michelangelo asked with a worried look on his face.

Donatello picked up the keys to the Turtle Van and handed them to Leonardo. "Whatever device Shredder used to affect the broadcast and open the portal has to be connected in the broadcast room. We have to go there and find it anyways." He reasoned heading out.

"Don't worry, Michelangelo, we'll find him." To punctuate his statement Leonardo knelt, picked up Raphael's dropped sais and tucked them in his belt.

**xXx**

**The Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

There were an awful lot of decaying bricks in the wall. Over 90 bricks per row. It wasn't much but it was something to do, and Raphael found he had to do something other than worry about this very uncomfortable situation. After picking the bookshelf up and putting all the books away everything had lapsed into a sullen silence. For a while he had tried to amuse himself by pasting sarcastic grins on his face, just to see how his brothers (could he even call them that?) would react. But it just ended with Mikey chuckling, which made Raph stand up, glare and pull out his sais again, which threw all three of them into another sullen silence.

When the clock struck four, all three of them jumped slightly. Raph was the only one to immediately recover, resuming his glare like a cat resumes licking their coat when they fall off of a ledge. Mikey stood up. "Your turn to swap with Don." He said to his older brother.

"You go. I'll stay here." Raph replied evenly.

The young turtle scratched his head right above his headband. "But you already took two shifts in a row."

His brother waved him off with one hand. "It's almost four, you should be startin' dinner."

He stayed still for a few moments before nodding. Things were too weird for him to try to argue this. "Ok." He replied simply, turning to head off for the kitchen. It left both red clad turtles to sit and stare at one another.

Raphael sighed, looking down at the blood that was crusted over on his hand. He couldn't remember the last time any of his brothers had intentionally hurt one another; it was that more than anything that made the reality of the situation sink in. After a minute or two of silence he couldn't stand it anymore.

"So what now?"

The question made Raph look up from his reverie and frown. "What do you mean 'what now?'"

"Are we just going to sit here all night?" he asked, fidgeting slightly.

His hotheaded counterpart gave him a very even stare. "Maybe."

"Can I move at all?" Raphael asked in the light tone he used when he was trying to test people's boundaries.

"No."

"Not even if I have to pee?"

His witty comment was rewarded with another glower. "No."

The two turtles sunk into another minute of painful silence.

Despite his better judgment, Raphael felt the overwhelming urge to break the silence once again. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a stunning conversationalist?"

Raph rolled his eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that you'll be dragged out of here in a bodybag if you don't shut up?"

"I see." Raphael paused, and stubbornly the next words slipped out. "Are you a temperamental bully with all of you brothers or are you doing this especially for me?" About two seconds after he said it he realized how much he dearly wished he hadn't.

Snapping his head around, Raph's next words were in a hot-tempered bellow. "I thought I told you to SHUT UP!"

---

Mikey kept his head down, pointedly ignoring any conversation coming from the library as he met up with Don on his way to the kitchen.

"Where's Raph? I though I was trading off with him?" Don asked, passing his youngest brother, carrying a wet dishtowel.

Mike shrugged, his eyes going slightly wider. "He told me to go start dinner." Pausing a beat he added, "I think he's pretty pissed off."

The elder turtle sighed, with an expression of 'tell me what else is new' crossing his face. "I suppose he's taking this all personally."

"What's to take personally about it?"

"Well, Mike, how would you react if a duplicate of you appeared in the lair?" Don asked, with a seriousness Mike usually expected from Leo.

Folding his arms in front of his plastron he scratched his head for a while. "I dunno. I'd probably be happy 'cause I'd have someone to play video games with."

His elder brother allowed himself a small smile. "I suppose you would. But think of how you'd feel if the other you didn't want to play video games. Or worse, if that other was trained to attack you"

Mike bit his upper lip slightly. "I'd be totally bummed."

"I thought I told you to SHUT UP!" Raph's irritated voice raised up through the main room. Mike gave a half smile.

"Better go break them apart." He grinned a little at Donnie.

"Why is that my job?" Don asked, despite the fact that he was already halfway towards the library.

"Because you're so good at it!" Mikey punctuated the statement with his most brilliant adoring little brother gaze and Don had to give a halfhearted smile.

Turning to the tense air in the library he called out sharply, "Hey, Raph, don't kill yourself!"

**xXx**

**Channel 48 Live Broadcast Stage: 1987 Cartoonverse**

Rushing in through the back door, Leonardo paused, looking over the apparently deserted soundstage. Directly behind him Michelangelo perked his head to one side. "Do you hear something, dude?"

"Shh… I think it's…" as Leo started his sentence all three turtles looked up to the lighting grid of the soundstage where a very familiar yellow-clad form was tied up and gagged.

"April!" all three of them chorused. Shredder's villainous chortle came from behind the curtain. Dramatically he threw it aside and stepped out to gloat.

"I knew you would come here, Turtles! Now prepare to meet your doom!" He waited for a second, clenching his fist.

The three brothers frowned for a second when the inevitable one liner their missing brother would provide simply didn't happen. Laughing once again, Shredder pointed at them, "Rocksteady, Bebop get them!" The two mutants came charging out from behind the stage guns blazing, causing all three turtles to jump in opposite directions to avoid the sudden rain of red laser light.

"We gotta find some way to get them back to Dimension X!" Leonardo shouted, leaping towards Rocksteady and planting a kick in his side.

"There's no open portal!" Donatello protested. The large speaker column he was standing beside suddenly exploded, and he ducked, narrowly avoiding Bebop's next few bolts. Coming to his aid, Michelangelo swung up with one nunchuk, clobbering the end of the gun.

"Hey!" the overgrown warthog protested as his gun went clattering to the floor. Michelangelo went so far to stick his tongue out at the beast before Bebop picked up a lighting boom and swung at the turtle in orange like he was swinging a baseball bat at a ball. It sent Michelangelo flying backwards into Donatello, and both of them skidded to the far end of the stage.

At the other end, Leonardo was having troubles of his own. "This isn't working!" he huffed as Rocksteady threw a box full of microphones at him. Slipping on the microphones, he grimaced while the mutant Rhinocerous chuckled.

"You're right it ain't working! We're smashin' yous to a pulp!" he crowed at Leonardo's shell as the blue clad turtle crashed into one of the curtains.

At the far end of the stage Michelangelo groaned. Donatello looked up in surprise to see several people in the corner, tied up and gagged. Included in the bunch of frightened workers were Vernon, the Clarke City Dancers, and Dr. Frankengerman. "Doctor von Frankengerman!" the brainy turtle exclaimed, running over to cut him loose.

"Vhat is going on here?" the older man rubbed his head as Donatello helped him to his feet. "Vhat are all you… creatures?"

The mutant terrapin shook his head, steering the doctor towards the control equipment. "I don't have time to explain that now, doctor. I need you to show me where your Complete Immersion Reality Television device is. I think the people who tied you up may have sabotaged it!" He dragged the man to the controls, and the two started looking for Shredder's device.

Meanwhile, Michelangelo had jumped back into the fray. He was circling Bebop, keeping a careful distance from the swinging pole. Leonardo was back on his feet, dodging boxes of supplies. "We gotta find a way to stop them!" the youngest brother protested.

Leonardo bit hit lip, and taking his katana, he sliced to rope from one of the sandbags hanging backstage. In perfect comedic form the heavy bag fell, clonking Rocksteady directly on the head. The mutant rhino complained and rubbed his head, and he could hear Michelangelo cheer in the background "All right, dude!"

Everybody, including Shredder, snapped their heads up towards the control panels as the same static humming that preceded the television broadcast filtered through the air. Directly behind the chromed-domed villain a glowing circular portal opened up. Behind the controls, Donatello jumped out, grinning, and handing off a strange looking silver box to Dr. Frankengerman.

Leonardo grinned, leaping up into the grid for the stage. With a few short cuts, he loosed one of the curtains, sending the heavy black drapery over both evil mutants. "Who turned out da lights?" one of them asked as Bebop and Rocksteady turned into a writhing mass of limbs and fabric. Donatello took that as his cue, running towards both and planting a jumping kick into the mass. The curtain rolled backwards, with a muttered "Aw, no!" and disappeared into the portal.

Looking at Shredder and then back at his youngest brother Leonardo called "Now, Michelangelo!" The orange clad turtle was up on the balcony, holding the freshly cut rope from the sandbag. He grabbed it, swinging Tarzan-style, and yelling "Cow-aaa-bunnn-gaaaa!" in his best jungle impression. His swing brought him feet-first into Shredder's chest and the villain went flying backwards into the portal as well. Donatello rushed over and disconnected a wire from the small box, causing the glowing doorway to vanish before any of their nemeses could return.

Leonardo climbed up to carefully cut April down as Michelangelo went to untie the rest of the cast and crew. Donatello stood beside Dr. Frankengerman who was turning the strange silver box over in his hands. "This is not part of my original invention. I do not know vhat it is."

"Do you think I could take it?" Donatello asked, nodding his thanks when the professor passed the device over.

"Are you ok, April?" Michelangelo walked over to her as Vernon rolled his eyes.

Back on her feet, April was dusting herself off as she nodded a yes. "I can't thank you guys enough! What was Shredder doing here anyways?"

"I don't know, but I think he was trying to use the broadcast to power the Technodrome with this alien device." The purple clad turtle replied, bringing the small box over.

"Do you think we'll be able to use that device to find Raphael?" the eldest brother asked.

April turned, looking concerned. "Where's Raphael?"

"We don't know." Michelangelo's voice was morose.

"I think if I can wire this device through our TV, I can get the same effect on the portal as the broadcast had." The inventor replied, thoughtfully.

Leonardo nodded and gestured towards the Turtle Van. "Then we had better get going."

"I'm coming with you guys." April said, hot on their heels.

"What about me?" Vernon whined.

Turning, the reporter fixed him with a steady look. "Vernon, someone has to take the tape back to the station."

The cameraman huffed as April and the Turtles disappeared. "Why do I always get the boring jobs?"

**xXx**

**The Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

From the moment they walked in, Leo and his sensei could smell the makings of a gourmet meal. "It looks like Mikey has really gone overboard tonight…I wonder why?" the teenager mused.

The wise rat paused at the entryway to the lair, looking at his eldest son. "Use your intuition, my son. What makes your brother throw himself into his work?"

If Leo hadn't spent the entire afternoon with his master in quiet reflection his first thought might have been 'nothing makes Mikey work hard.' Not that it was the kind of response he would have ever given Master Splinter. But he felt calm and centered this evening and took a few moments to think of an honest answer. "Mikey likes to cook, and he usually really throws himself at it when he's planning something special… or he's really nervous." His brows suddenly knit in realization that there was no holiday anywhere near this date, and took off for the kitchen. Master Splinter gave a small smile of amusement before following his son.

Entering the kitchen Leo's jaw dropped. It looked like a dessert shop has exploded in their kitchen, baking pans and cookies were everywhere. The oldest turtle took in a deep breath and tried to sound nonchalant. "Hey, Mikey, what's going on?"

The youngest turned, sending spatters of batter flinging around the counter. "Leo! I'm so glad you're back you wouldn't believe what happened today!" His voice was heavy with both relief and nervousness so the words came out in a nearly unintelligible jumble.

The blue clad turtle perked a brow as his sensei walked up behind him. Taking a very deep breath he tried again. "Ok, Mike, what happened today?"

"Ok, so there was this crash in the library and I thought that Raph had thrown something but he didn't and when we all checked it out Raph found a copy of himself and now there are two Raphaels and they don't like each other!" Finally at the end Mikey stopped for a breath.

Leo turned to Master Splinter, his face creased in an expression of extreme confusion. "Mikey, that doesn't make any sense…" he started, but broke off when his father held up a paw.

Walking forward, Splinter spoke in a soft, calm voice. "Try explaining again, my Son. Take a breath and take your time." He placed his paw on Mike's shoulder for reassurance.

Downing an entire glass of water, the youngest turtle tried again. "Ok, there was this crash in the library. Don and Raph and I all went to check it out, and when we got there we found that the bookshelf was turned over. Raph saw something moving and when he checked it out we found a…" he swallowed "Another ninja turtle! He says he's Raphael!"

"Mikey, if this is a joke," his elder brother warned, furrowing his brow.

"It's not a joke! Go check in the library for yourself!"

Master Splinter held up his paw again, and beckoned for Leo to follow him. "Michelangelo, I think it best that you stay here and… finish your baking." He gestured to the growing mess. "Your brother and I will check out what you found in the library."

The youngest breathed a sigh of relief, turning back to the macaroons.

Leo's jaw dropped the second he entered the doorway to the library. He blinked and even found himself poking his head out to double check that Mikey was still in the kitchen. He did a head count, several times. Five. Taking a deep breath he turned to the odd turtle out. "Who are you?"

"Raphael." His voice has long since lost its natural wit. He sounded both tired and alone.

"He says he's from some other dimension. Donnie thinks he's a clone sent here by one of our enemies." Raph added dryly.

"I don't really know, but I can run some tests this evening." The purple clad turtle finished.

Master Splinter stepped forward, his ears twitching. Looking straight at the smaller Raphael his voice was even and soft. "Please, tell me where you come from."

Raphael gave a short sigh. He could never seem to word these things right. "I'm from New York, pretty much the exact same place as here; but not here obviously. Shredder tried using some, uh, alien technology I think. He transported his goons into our lair, and it opened a portal. Somehow in the fight I got knocked through and I ended up here."

The old rat's eyes never left the new turtle's face. Behind him, furrows appeared on Leo's forehead as he thought the whole thing over. "How did this dimensional portal work?"

"I don't know. I'm not Donatello." The red-clad turtle sounded exasperated.

"Wait, you've got a Donatello too?" Raph asked, his brow creasing.

"Yes." His counterpart gave a little nod. "And a Leonardo, a Michelangelo, a Master Splinter, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree…"

Raph stood, hooking his sais in his belt, giving on last irritated glare to his mirror-image. "I've had enough of this!" Turning he directed his pent up frustration on his usual target. "How about I let you take over, fearless leader."

His elder brother frowned at him. "Where are you going?"

"Out." He replied crossly, marching into the kitchen.

Master Splinter stood in the middle of it all, watching everything with a keen expression and a very calm demeanor. He placed a paw on his eldest son's shoulder to prevent him from following his hotheaded sibling. "Let him go, my son." Turning back Raph's counterpart was just sitting there with his head in his hand.

Leo had the same expression on his face that he got when thing felt like they were slipping out of control. His voice was soft and tight. "What do we do now, Master?"

His sensei gave him a reassuring smile. "I will speak with out newcomer." He paused and looked at both remaining brothers. "Go eat dinner. Afterwards Donatello can run his tests and you can help your brother clean up the kitchen."

They both headed for the doorway, nodding. "Hai, Master." They spoke almost in unison before disappearing into the kitchen.

The elder rat settled himself in a chair across from Raphael and watched the young turtle keenly. Despite the strangeness of his story he could find any indication of falseness in his eyes. His voice was gentle when he spoke next. "You are really not from this world, are you?"

Raphael looked up for perhaps the first time since he hit the bookshelf, with hope in his eyes.


	4. When Worlds Collide

**The Lair: 1987 Cartoonverse**

Leonardo and Michelangelo were huddled up, peering over their brainy brother's shoulder, and it was starting to irritate him. Perking his head up from behind the television he shook a screwdriver at them. "You know, you can't rush genius, guys!"

"Yeah, but we want to help if we can." Leonardo reminded him, pacing slightly.

"Have patience, Leonardo." Master Splinter reminded him from the couch. It prompted Donatello to look longingly at where Splinter and April sat patiently, wishing his brothers would do the same.

"Which includes giving me breathing room." The inventor reminded them with a small even grin.

Michelangelo sighed, deciding that if he were going to get chased away, the best use for his time would be to prepare some munchies to fortify them for the trip. It left their fearless leader standing there, still watching the slow process of wiring up the alien box into the television. Donatello gritted his teeth, briefly considering poking his elder brother with his bo staff to gain some extra room; not to mention better light. Amazingly his youngest brother came to his rescue.

"Leonardo, dude, what do you want on your pizza?" Michelangelo called from the kitchen, digging through the cupboards for toppings.

"Um… how about Sushi, ice cream and banana?" he called, walking kitchen-wards, and mercifully leaving his brother to work in peace.

"How is it going, Donatello?" April asked quietly after a long period of silence punctuated only by the sounds of chaos in the kitchen.

"Whatever this alien machinery is, it's extremely complex. I hope I get some time to study it after everything settles down again." He replied, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in thought. "It seems to be a control device that is capable of generating large amounts of power through the command process. It must be this extra energy that powers the portal."

"But you have figured it out, right?" The reporter leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees.

"I'm…. not sure. I know I can get it working, but for how long is what I'm worried about…"

**Sewers: 2003 Cartoonverse.**

"Damn it!"

In the middle of the clammy darkness several bricks dislodged from the wall and skidded into the foul sewer water. The foot that propelled them stomped angrily on the cement, and Raph debated the merits of kicking the wall again. But it provided far less destruction and therefore far less satisfaction than he had hoped for. He had considered screaming, too; but he knew he was a bit too close to the lair to chance it. The last thing he wanted were his brothers to actually hear him and come looking, thinking he was in trouble.

He had gotten over halfway to Casey's place when he had stopped dead in his walk; and the cold slimy feeling that he had just made a mistake washed over him. Despite not really wanting to be around his family at that moment the sudden thought that he might have just left them vulnerable to some freakish cloned mutant assassin struck him in the same way a throbbing headache strikes the back of one's neck. He had turned around them, heading back for the lair like a man on a mission. If anyone could stop a bad mirror of himself it should be himself… right?

Still he wasn't in the mood to go back to the lair right then. Anger bubbled just beneath his skin; so keenly that he wished he could scratch a rip in his shoulders and let it bleed out. Half of him really wished that this pitiful clone would actually turn out to be sent by an enemy just so he could have the satisfaction of ripping him apart.

Right before the anger built up to the breaking point he snapped straight upwards, and started to run down the sewer tunnel. If he ran fast enough his mind would shut off, and he would hear only the sounds of his feet hitting the cold ground and his body fueling his movements. He rounded a corner and indulged in a leaping sidekick, striking an old board that he had leaned up against one of the junction ledges weeks ago. He didn't know why he had so carefully set it up then, just the impression that it might be useful someday. It snapped in half with a satisfying crack, one chunk crumbling and sinking into the muck at the bottom of the sewer, the other still precariously balanced on the ledge. For a few long seconds he listened to his breath hiss in and out of his mouth. But as his mind cleared, his vision hazed a tint of red again and he stared at the board maliciously.

Words didn't come out, just a guttural yell as he smashed his fist into the board. The second time it went clear through, and the third time he was just pushing fragments of wood around the sewer. Turning he muttered to the bricks in the wall. "I was supposed to go on patrol with Casey tonight. I was supposed to have a nice normal evening. Maybe it even might be decent, but no. Something always has to happen. Some strange shit always has to go down." He snarled one last time for good measure before he turned and sank down into a crouch, his shell against the clammy cold wall, soaking up the cool, damp air.

Alone, the darkness was comforting. He almost wished for the boredom that usually irritated him so much down here. But the nagging thought at the back of his mind was the fact that he had stared into the smaller turtle's face, and realized the sincerity in his bizarre explanation. Sincerity that he didn't think Mikey or Don caught on, because like himself it was shaded with layers of deception. The difference was instead of anger it was sarcasm; which now that he thought about it wasn't all that different. And therein lay what bothered Raph the most. What if it were true? What if this turtle really was another version of himself? How easily could his brothers see through this counterpart? It created an odd feeling of vulnerability that sat very poorly in the pit of Raph's stomach.

He stood and stretched, listening to his shoulders and neck pop as he did so. At least the angry part of him was still holding on to the hope that it was an enemy clone.

**The Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

Master Splinter's room was filled with the heady scent of myrrh incense, so much that it made Raphael's eyes water a bit. He took to sitting on his hands as he knelt to keep from rubbing them.

The elder rat smiled, watching out of the corner of his eye as the teapot started to boil. His Michelangelo did the exact same thing, even to this very day, and something about the effort to hide his desire to fidget and itch was endearing. The extra bit of effort his sons put forward to appear collected even when they weren't was something that never escaped the master's notice. And unless he was trying to teach them something where honest clarity was required he had to admit that the effort bought a hidden smile to his lips. Still, he eyed the newcomer with the solidity of a mountain. "Why don't we start at the beginning, my son…"

"How far back does that go?" Raphael queried, frantically searching his mind for truly early memories. He could have sworn he heard Master Splinter chuckle.

"Tell me about your journey here, do not spare the details." The rat gave another chuckle as he heard the audible sigh of relief from the young turtle facing him. Standing and keeping watch he poured two cups of strong green tea.

Raphael stared at the cup of pungent liquid, with an expression of distaste, but picked it up when the look on Splinter's face seemed to demand it. He wondered if this was somehow a test. Then again, maybe he was dreaming and the tea would snap him out of it, but after his thrilling afternoon in the library with his counterpart he was fairly sure that he was wide awake. "Ok… I think it started with April's news report. There was some sort of reality-television invention that would broadcast; well I'm not sure really, three-dimensional images I think. And Donatello had what was once a working dimensional portal, but is right now more of a big piece of metal with buttons wired up through other things in the lair, notably the TV. This reality television device must have also been of worth to Shredder, because he sabotaged it and caused it to project his mutant goons into our lair, and probably everyone else's house who was tuned in. And when they started smashing things up we decided to see hitting their images would do any good. It did, and in the course of things I missed a block and got slammed backwards, but instead of hitting the wall, I hit the portal and then your library and ended up face to face with… myself." He winced a little, thinking that it still didn't sound any more logical than the first few times. Splinter was stroking his chin, staring at him thoughtfully, but he said nothing. Finally Raphael added the question nagging at the bottom of his brain. "Can I ask if you even believe any part of a story that corny?"

Slowly the hint of a smile curled beneath quivering whiskers. "Sometimes it is not the story, but how it is told that matters."

"That doesn't say much for the truth, Master."

Splinter clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth. "I never said I condoned a lie."

Raphael took in a breath, a rare pause to think before he spoke. "Truth or not, I guess I don't really understand why you would believe me… or trust me. Heck, if I were you I wouldn't believe me. I have been listening to what has come out of my mouth, and even though it's true it sounds like something Michelangelo reads in the Weekly World News." His shoulders fell slightly after he spoke.

This time Splinter allowed the smile to be visibly in his expression. "Sometimes there are things that brothers miss, that only fathers can see."

**The Lair: 1987 Cartoonverse**

"I think I got it!" Donatello popped up from behind the television wearing a familiar 'ah-ha!' expression.

Walking in from the kitchen, Michelangelo nearly dropped his slice of pizza. "Got what?"

"When I turn this device on, it should restore power to the portal." His brother replied, standing and brushing dust from his knees.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Leonardo asked, finishing his slice of pizza in one bite, bringing the rest of the pie over to the couch for the others.

Coming out from behind the portal, the inventor shuffled his feet a little, looking at the floor. "What is it dude?' Michelangelo prompted.

"I'm not sure that the device can keep the portal up and running for very long. Our portal is, strictly speaking, broken." He confessed biting his lower lip.

Leonardo walked up to the portal, eying it thoughtfully. "Can we all get through it?"

"We can all get through it. What I'm worried about is that we won't be able to get back!" the brainy turtle furrowed his brow.

"You mean it's like a one-way trip, dude?" the smile was slowly starting to fade from the youngest brother's face.

"There has to be some way of getting you all back here!" April wrung her hands in worry.

Donatello bit his bottom lip. "I have been thinking about that. If I stay here, I could be able to fix the portal and keep it open longer."

"I don't think that's a good idea." His elder brother chided. "We don't know what kind of world we'll find on the other side… or how long it will take for us to find Raphael."

Donatello gave an exasperated little sigh, looking over to Master Splinter for advice.

Splinter leaned back, refusing to be rattled by the news. His whiskers were pert with attention. "In everything you do, know that you are stronger as a team and as a family" was all he said.

Leonardo placed a resolute on his features. "We won't split up. Whatever we face on the other side of that portal, we face it together!" He paused, gathering his brothers around him.

Donatello lagged for a second, picking up a control pad he had stripped from the alien computer. "If I'm very lucky, I will be able to control the portal remotely." He paused and looked over at the couch. "If something burns out, check the wires that connect the device to the television and the television to the portal, first."

"We'll make sure to keep an eye on it." April reassured him, crossing her fingers.

"Take care, my sons." Leaning on his walking stick, the mutated human touched the shoulders of the three turtles, as if granting them his blessing.

Taking in a deep breath, Donatello turned the portal on, and it crackled to life with a hazy blue glare. "I suggest we all go through at once, I'm not sure how long it will stay up."

His brother nodded and stepped forward. "Come on, let's find Raphael."

"Dude, what do you think we'll find on the other side? Dimension X? Some nasty alien combat arena? Prehistoric Earth?" Michelangelo's questions were the last thing April and Splinter saw or heard of the three.

**Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

"You're pacing." The words were mumbled between mouthfuls of chips.

Leo stared back at his little brother, wondering how he could be peacefully eating junk food and watching B horror movies at a time like this. Mikey gave him such an obnoxious grin that he decided his brother would not get the honor of a response. "You kinda look like Raph when you stare at me like that!" Mike added, not wiping the grim off his face.

"Mike, will you get serious?" Leo asked, trying to calm his expression to something other than a Raph-like glare.

"What, you mean like you?" the grin still didn't fade. When Leo gave a little sigh that hinted how wound up he actually was, Mikey bit his lip. "I though you were going to go meditate?"

_I was._ Leo thought as he fell silent and resumed pacing. But he couldn't clear his mind. No matter how many times he told himself that Master Splinter could take care of himself he still felt the burden of worry. After what seemed to be an achingly long time, he decided that maybe Mikey was right after all, and some distraction was in order. Giving a deeper sigh, he slumped into the chair next to his baby brother and mutely nodded his thanks when a bag of chips was pressed into his lap. He was halfway through an internal calculation on exactly how many actors it took to fill the costume of a giant radioactive cockroach when a sound poured into the room…a strange, unearthly crackling sound of static interference. Leo furrowed his brows and stood up to tap the TV, but Mike's eyes were wide. "What's wrong?"

Mikey shook his head and stood up, moving towards the library, offering the vague answer of "that's the same sound." When he neared the open doorway, his eyes went even wider. "Leo, come over here!" he practically howled.

When the blue clad leader arrived, he tensed, reaching out for a katana. Hovering in midair, right in front of the library door was a glowing blue circle edged in snapping bolts of electricity. "What is that?" he murmured.

"I was so hoping you would know." Mikey muttered, and reached out to try to touch it. It earned him a swift yank backwards from his older brother.

"Don't touch it! It could be a trap!"

"It could be a portal…" Mike suggested, seriously.

As if fate was playing a cruel trick, just as the words left Mike's mouth Leo looked up to watch as three rather familiar forms walked out of the crackling circle and materialized directly in front of them on the other side of the haze. Slowly as the energy portal faded into nothingness, the forms clarified into things that were unmistakably ninja turtles.

"How about…. the lair?!" The front most turtle was saying, as if in answer to some unspoken question. Leo narrowed his eyes, somewhat dismayed to see that yes, indeed, it was a turtle much like him wearing a bandana the same color as his.

"Dude, did we even go anywhere?" The orange clad one was asking as they both took a look at the library. Only the turtle in the back actually turned around towards the doorway where Mike and Leo were framed.

Donatello's cry of dismay at the fading portal turned into a cry of surprise at what he saw. Leo faced him; katana at the ready, waiting for any wrong move while beside him Mikey furrowed his brow in confusion. "I'm fairly sure we went somewhere, Michelangelo…"

The orange clad newcomer turned and his expression went from one of boredom to intense curiosity. "Dude, check it out! Us!" It prompted both him and his counterpart to grin despite the situation, and it made Leonardo whirl around.

The blue clad newcomer immediately put his hands up in a gesture of non-aggression. "We're not here to hurt anyone… we're just looking for our brother."

Leo didn't advance, but he didn't put down his weapon, either. He simply watched the three new turtles with an expression of calm skepticism. All five turtles lapsed into a tense silence as they stared at one another.

"I think I figured it out!" Don's voice wasn't very loud, but it made everyone jump in the silence. "The sensor readings I got from the security systems indicate that there was a huge electrical jump in the library at the time that strange turtle appeared. It's consistent with the power necessary for dimensional transport." The purple clad turtle came rounding the corner with a long printout shoved in his hand.

"That's great, Donnie." Leo replied, waving him over. "But does it explain these guys?"

Don's jaw dropped as he peered around the corner and came face to face with himself.


	5. Face to Face

**The Lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

Several seconds of silence hung over the assembled crowd before anyone spoke. Even Mikey seemed struck dumb. Finally it was Leonardo who broke the hush.

"Strange turtle? Was there another?" He stepped slightly forward, despite his counterpart's warning glare.

"Yeah…" Mikey started only to be cut off by Leo. The blue clad terrapin held up a hand and walked slowly forward, looking the three newcomers over.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" Leo's voice was calm, with a thick edge of protectiveness about it. It reminded Leonardo of being lectured by their Master Splinter.

The slightly smaller blue clad turtle cleared his throat. "I'm Leonardo, this is Michelangelo and Donatello." He replied, gesturing to his brothers. Staring back at him, Leo's face pinched slightly, as if somehow he knew that would be the answer, but getting it so plainly made his head hurt.

"Just like us…" Donnie murmured in wonderment. Slowly his wide eyes expression shifted to a gleeful grin. "That's amazing, perfect inter-dimensional transport, right here in our library!"

The eldest of the turtles turned, perking a blue clad brow over to his brother. "That's great, Don." He paused a bit, taking stock of the situation and making sure the strange new turtles were staying put. "Can you explain that a bit more?" he asked in a tone that clearly said 'because I don't trust these guys.'

The scientifically minded turtle paced a little bit to get his mind working. "It's a theoretical science, that if the right amount of concentrated energy were focused at one specific point you could rip through the barriers that form between dimensions."

"Dimensions?" Mikey prompted.

"Realities, Mikey." Don paused, scratching the back of his head for a second. "Think of it like a deck of cards. You stack the deck and turn up the first card. That's your dimension, and it's solid. But if you fan the cards with yours on top, you can see other cards peeking through. Some are very similar – the same number or the same suit, and some are wildly different. Those are other dimensions. Differences in reality"

The youngest turtle bit his lip and finally nodded. "Ok… but they're theo-retical?" He pronounced the last word carefully.

"They're not theoretical." Donatello protested, his curiosity piqued by the conversation. "All you have to do is focus a large burst of Omicron radiation into a containment bath and destabilize the ion force into sub-micromatic particles." The smaller purple turtle paused for a second after he spoke. He had explained the basic principles of dimensional transport dozens of times; this was the first time that it ever sounded convoluted to his ears.

Don furrowed his brow in response. "Omicron radiation is highly unstable, even in a laboratory setting. I don't know how you would get an amount large enough to transport a humanoid controlled enough to open a dimensional portal without causing severe radiation poisoning to most of the city."

"By using an anti-radiation inhibitor control." His counterpart replied plainly. Once again, even though he knew it worked in his home universe, it sounded rather foolish here. As if to make things better, he added, "I have done it before… I could show you how it's done" in a rather plaintive tone.

Behind him, Michelangelo chuckled. "Maybe we're just highly unstable, dude?" He grinned brightly, and his mirth earned a little laugh in response from his counterpart, and a stony glare from not just one, but also both Leonardo's.

"Michelangelo, I think the jokes can wait until another time." His brother's voice was carefully cautious and he instinctively moved forward again, as if he was trying to put himself in between the odd brothers whose lair they had just crashed and his own brothers behind him.

Leo very slowly let a breath out between his teeth, the tension around him almost palpable. Still, as he watched the smaller blue clad turtle, he could feel himself doing the same, trying to sow the middle ground between the two groups. He closed his eyes for a second and slowly turned his attention back to the scientists.

Don wasn't paying much attention to the conversation anymore, his head still stuck on what his mirror was saying. "You know…" he started "as crazy as it sounds, it could work."

"But if it's not possible here…" Leo started, trailing off as Don waved a hand at him.

"That doesn't necessarily mean it's not possible in another dimension. If these guys really are us, and I think they might be, there must be enough similarity between our two home worlds to have a good deal of basic repetition between the both. There must be two planet Earths, both with similar people, and similar histories. But if there were no differences we wouldn't be separated at all – we would be them. That's a really convoluted way of saying that, yes Leo, I think it's possible and my reading tend to confirm that they really are us." The purple clad turtle stopped pacing while he spoke, finally finishing it off looking Leo in the eye, nearly beak to beak.

The slightly taller turtle looked back at his brother, struck by the amount of confidence in the quieter teen's voice. Slowly he relaxed and relented somewhat. "Then if they're us, what do we do next?"

"Find a way to make the impossible, possible. So we can get them back home." Don turned again, resuming his somewhat meditative pacing.

The smaller blue clad turtle cleared his throat slightly and as the three counterpart's eyes rose to him he spoke in a soft tone, "You said there was another turtle…"

**xXx**

**Sewers: 2003 Cartoonverse**

There was a burst of static electricity that ran through the air even before Raph heard the crack. It was a hissing burst of interference, like when a radio signal gives it's last protest before it dies. Every muscle down the back of his body an along his shell was tensed, and his legs quavered in fury before he spun a pirouette in the dank sewer slime and broke off towards the lair in a dead run.

Sliding along a slick patch of mold and slime coating one bend in the tunnel, the hotheaded young turtle reached out to grab one of the protruding water pipes, and he swung his feet out, surfing around the 90 degree corner like a professional hockey player and running like a man possessed. On the way his mind kept playing out scenarios where he opened the door to find his family slain and despicable monsters climbing out of turtle skins ready to take over. As much as he reassured himself that Master Splinter would never let that happen, he felt obligated to help protect his family. They were his family, and by record they were the only ones he got. The thought of anything bad happening to them sickened him to his core.

Temper: his old nemesis. It had left a hole in his defenses, and in turn, he had run out, leaving a hole in his brother's defenses with his absence. Guilt gnawed at his mind as he ran, though he was glad that he hadn't gone with his original, temper-driven plan of visiting Casey and suggesting they beat out some aggression on some well deserving thugs. His natural sense of mistrust has kept him lingering close the lair, just far enough away to feel alone.

Turning the familiar tunnels towards home, Raph's gaze clouded to a hazy red stare. If that evil clone of his was doing anything more than sitting in the library he swore he was going to rip him apart. His green fingers clenched on the door, rattling it from his hinges. He vaulted over the banister, his feet pounding away a small bit of hit anger into the dust of the floor, pushing over the coat rack for good measure. He could hear voices coming from the library. Good. Then he wouldn't have to go searching for them.

"Yeah, a fourth one just like you guys!" Mikey was speaking animatedly.

"Raphael?" to Raph's ears the voice was slightly familiar and completely alien all at the same time. It was the same wavering tone of concern that Leo got when he didn't want to seem as emotional about something as he actually was, yet not him at all. He partially processed that before he answered.

"What?" The heavy Brooklyn accent pierced the room a split second before the muscular red turtle came to a skidding halt in the doorway, looking winded and out of sorts. His eyes first fell on Don, Mike, Leo, all alive, well and unharmed, which served to abate his anger slightly. That was before his gaze turned into the library itself. "The hell is going on here!" he bellowed, his eyes widening to a state of shock. He gripped the molding on the doorway so hard that Mikey swore he heard the wood groan and crack.

Leo was on the move immediately, stepping in between the seventh turtle and the three newcomers. "Raph…" he replied in a warning tone, ready to grab his brother if he made a move to start something.

"No, Leo, tell me, who the hell are these freaks? What are they doing here?" Raph balled his hands into fists, but he kept them clenched stiffly at his side.

Michelangelo stared wildly forward at the sound and fury that had just crashed into the library and edged closer to Donatello. "That's not our Raphael, please tell me that's not our Raphael, dude."

The eldest turtle sighed a little, understanding more of how his red clad brother felt than he wanted to admit at the moment because they were probably the exact same question that had been running through his own head minutes ago, only controlled better. "We think that they're actually who they say they are, Raph."

Donatello looked to Michelangelo and gave him a reassuring little shake of his head. "I don't think that's our Raphael." It didn't stop either of them from grouping up defensively.

"And who the hell do they say they are?" the red clad turtle put his hands squarely on his hips.

"They're us, Raph." Don's voice was both tired and logical. "No matter how unusual it seems, scientifically everything lines up. They're not robots or clones, they are other dimensional versions of ourselves."

Raph glared at the newcomers. "That's a little too convenient, Donnie." He took a moment to stare down the newcomers, unsettled by how similar they were.

"You know, dude, if we had tried to sneak up on you guys by wearing "you" costumes, you think we might'a looked exactly like you instead of exactly like us." Michelangelo perked his head up from behind Leonardo, watching Raph.

It took a moment to process the orange clad turtles' words, but it didn't make then any less accurate. Despite the overall similarity between the two sets of brothers, there were a myriad of tiny differences that stuck out rather readily. They would have been very poor doppelgangers for one another. "I've got a point you know." Mikey replied, somewhat gleefully. It earned him a glare from Raph.

"Great." Raph relented, but he didn't relax. He stalked the back wall like a cat and finally slung one leg over a chair looking ready to pounce if things went suddenly wrong. "What do we do now?"

**xXx**

**Master Splinter's room, the lair: 2003 Cartoonverse**

There had been a general note of quiet between the young turtle and the elder rat for quite some time, something that Master Splinter was enjoying. There was a something of a gentle touch to the Raphael that sat before him. He didn't quite want to call it naiveté, but something about the young turtle reminded him of his own son before he got so angry. He leaned back, sipping his tea, his bright eyes glittering in the soft flickering candlelight. Across from him Raphael practiced the gentle art of biting his tongue.

His ears were perked up, listening to everything transpiring outside. Slowly Raphael was becoming aware of it, too but the red clad teen was exhausted and slow on the upswing. It wasn't until Raph's brash questioning wavered through the walls of Master Splinter's room that he turned his head around to pay attention.

"Um, you think we should go out there and check on them?" He asked, stretching to get up.

The sensei gestured for the younger turtle to sit back down. "Not yet, my son. But soon."

Raphael furrowed his brows, and strained to listen better, a little glimmer of hope lighting up in the pit of his stomach that just maybe there would be another friendly face. And despite the fact that he would deny it to his brothers, at that moment nothing would make him happier than seeing three friendly faces. It made sitting still very difficult and he found himself fidgeting like three-year-old Michelangelo on a sugar rush.

Behind his table Master Splinter chuckled very slightly to himself, watching. It took little moments to remind him that his sons were not as tough as they would like to pretend to be. Even his own Michelangelo all too often played at being more grown up. He cherished the moments when he could remember them as children.

As the discussion outside came to a conclusion point, the old rat let his ears perk up to full attention and he stood in one fluid movement. He looked over to the fidgeting red turtle and gestured for him to follow. "Come, I believe my sons have come to the conclusions they needed to reach."

An expression of confusion crossed the young turtle's face, but he stood, stretched and wearily followed the sensei out towards the library. Splinter entered first, answering Raph's question. "I think now is the time to accept what has happened, and prepare to solve it tomorrow."

All seven turtles snapped their attention to the old rat, but it was Raphael who broke the silence. Peering out from the hallway behind Master Splinter, his eyes widened from a half lidded sleepiness to full out shock. "Leonardo?" he called cautiously towards the blue turtle who looked very much like his brother. Slowly he walked fully into the library, hoping that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

"Raphael!" Leonardo sounded positively thrilled, even more so when Raphael perked his head up. The expression of the young red-clad turtle was a study in contrasts. His eyes were alight with joy, but he was trying to keep his face coolly unimpressed. He was failing miserably at it, too, a lopsided grim plastered across his beak.

"Hey, guys. It took you long enough to get here!" he chided weakly, his voice dripping with relief. He didn't even protest when Michelangelo jumped over to wrap his arms around his brother's shoulders in a bear hug.

"Oh, God, get a room." Raph muttered dryly from the corner, looking disgusted. Mikey snickered in his direction until he got a warning stare to knock it off.

Master Splinter looked around at the eight turtles standing around him, each regarding him with a wildly different posture, from ones that spoke of rage and defiance to ones that spoken of confusion, worry, and great relief. Very slowly a dank, sinking feeling encroached in the pit of his stomach, even as he gave them all a calm smile.

"My sons, I suggest that we all stop arguing. As it seems very likely that we all are, in fact who we say we are, I trust that there is no better salve for the turmoil of the day than to get a good night's sleep. We can set our guests up in the library for the night and worry about the rest in the morning."

"I can get that set up." Leo replied, nodding. At this moment he didn't even care if Raph was going to call him perfect later, following Master Splinter's orders gave him something to focus on for the moment, and it was a small comfort for a busy mind. Slowly the brothers peeled off, moving furniture or setting things or; some of them merely avoiding the others, or glaring, letting each turtle know his place.

Master Splinter watched them for one more second before turning. He had thought that dealing with the conflicting personalities of four hidden, mutant teenagers was difficult; doubling that to eight made his head spin. Something about them made him smile, something about the newcomers that evoked fond memories of his sons. Something else told him that he had better keep a fire extinguisher, a big pack of band-aids, and a case worth of Tylenol easily at hand. The old rat rubbed his temples as he strolled back into his room, feeling a nagging headache coming on.


	6. Nocturnal Notions

**2003 Cartoonverse**

Leonardo was the last to fall asleep. He sat on the floor cushions, his legs folded meditatively around him, listening to his brothers' snores. It had been a few years since they had all slept in bunks in the same room, back in the old lair. Somehow, being surrounded by the same old sounds of sleep was still comforting.

Raphael had been the first to fall asleep. It was one of the rare occasions where he didn't have much to say. He offered a few more mumbled thanks to his brothers for coming to find him, and a short hazy conversation with the counterpart Don before wandering to the bathroom and returning with a bandaged hand.

"Guys, you didn't happen to conveniently leave the portal door open so we can go back home, did you?" was the last thing he had asked before he dropped off into a sound slumber, even before Donatello could answer the question.

Michelangelo was dismayed at Raphael's swift departure to Nod, the youngest brother had been hoping to recount their daring soundstage battle with Shredder, and he nearly emphasized how cool the story was going to be with a pillow to his sleeping brother's cheek. He was in mid swing when Leonardo caught the back of the pillowcase and gave it a gentle tug, knocking Michelangelo off balance, and sending him rolling into Donatello's pile of bedding.

"Ooof!" The orange turtle exclaimed, clutching his pillow to his chest like a life vest.

"You know, I was making that bed?" Donatello chided lightly.

"Uh huh. And I'm just making sure it's comfortable!" The youngest grinned easily back at his brother.

"Well, is it?" Leonardo asked, chuckling very slightly.

Michelangelo gave a convincing nod. "Yup. Very much so." He rolled up to his feet, and stopped assaulting his brother's bedding, walking back towards Raphael. Once again, their leader reached out to yank on the pillow, and Michelangelo turned, shaking a finger at him in a 'naughty' gesture. "You got your own pillow, dude!"

The blue clad turtle laughed quietly. "I'm just a subliminal message saying 'don't wake your brother up!'"

The younger turtle thought about that few a few seconds, and dropped his pillow, only to plunk down upon it seconds later. "Does that mean you talk backwards in your sleep?"

Leonardo shook his head. "No, I don't think I could speak backwards awake."

"I'm sure I could make a microphone that caused reverse feedback…" Donatello mused from his side of the room.

"No thanks, I think I'll pass on that one." The blue turtle grinned a little, pleased for the digression. Unlike Michelangelo, he knew all too well that Raphael was rarely quiet; and when he was it usually meant that he had far more on his mind than he could find words for. Leonardo figured it was best to let him sleep and sort out his thoughts.

Michelangelo was the next to retire, though it was more out of boredom than actual exhaustion. After taking the hint not to wake Raphael the conversation started to peter out. All three brothers were tired, and neither Donatello nor Leonardo seemed to be in the mood for their usual lighthearted banter. It left Michelangelo a bit too tired to be creative, and a bit too restless to actually fall asleep.

He knew what he would have done at home. He oftentimes got restless at night, if something was on his mind, and his usual remedy was to watch a bit of television until he felt tired enough to sleep. He decided he would do the same tonight, and become the first turtle to venture outside the confines of the library and hallway that led to the bathroom.

"I don't know if we're suppose to go wandering around out there." Donatello warned as his brother stepped past him towards the doorway.

"But I just gotta see if Slimezilla vs. Robomothra is still playing tonight!" the youngest protested, wringing his hands together. He stared at both of his brothers with an expression of barely concealed hope.

Leonardo sighed. "Just don't get into trouble, ok?"

He nodded and gave his promise to be on his best behavior before slinking quietly into the hall to make a dash for the living room, only to be forcibly ejected a few minutes later, chased by some angry words in a biting Brooklyn accent. Leonardo and Donatello snapped their heads up nearly in unison, ready to run out of the library when Michelangelo reappeared, cheeks red from embarrassment.

"So… no Slimezilla vs. Robomothra I take it?" the brainy brothers asked, his tone quietly chatty.

"Not unless I want to take my chances with getting punched in the face." The youngest groused, shaking his head mournfully.

"That's a little harsh." Leonardo murmured, setting out his bed linens.

Michelangelo sighed and dropped down onto his bedroll. "Dude, that's what I said!" He griped, watching the eldest work. It made him feel a bit better to know Leonardo agreed with him. He let out a long breath and rolled over on his back, settling his shell down into the bedding and staring at the ceiling. "I mean, come on! Who doesn't like Slimezilla?"

"People with taste?" Donatello queried with a hint of a smile.

The orange clad brother let his shoulders fall and his head loll as he frowned. "Man, I don't think Mr. Cranky out there has any taste." He jerked a thumb towards the living room as he spoke. "Even Raphael watches Slimezilla at home."

Raphael snorted lightly in his sleep, as if in agreement. But what really struck Leonardo was the hidden layer of hurt in his younger brother's voice. Something he so rarely heard, tonight he swore the meaning behind his brother's words was clearly 'I don't think this is fun anymore.'

From across the room, Donatello gave an empathetic little nod. "I'm sorry, Michelangelo. You know, if we had another TV, I'd watch Slimezilla with you."

The orange clad terrapin gave a small huff and rolled over again. "Nah, it doesn't matter. They probably don't even get Slimezilla here."

The eldest bit his lip, as if railing against the growing tension in the room. "Guys, why don't we all get some sleep? It's been a very long day for us and we're probably more tired than we would like to admit." He proposed, rationally. "Besides, you know everything seems clearer in the morning, Michelangelo."

"I guess so." The younger groused and pulled his blanket around him. "I could really go for a peanut butter and artichoke pizza right about now."

"Maybe we can look into that tomorrow." Leonardo assured, nodding a bit. Michelangelo murmured something more about pizza toppings before falling off into a peaceful slumber.

An uneasy silence settled in the library between the two remaining brothers. The eldest fluffed his pillow, set his blankets and lay down before sitting back up again. "Donatello… do you think we can get back soon?" His voice has something of a plaintive tone to it, as if he allowed himself to show his own worry once most of his brothers were asleep.

Donatello looked over, his expression kind. "I don't know, Leonardo. I'm afraid that the basic scientific principles I know and count upon might not be the same here. But if we exist here, and the same mutagen that created us worked here as well, it can't be impossible to find a way to open up a portal."

The leader considered that a bit and nodded slowly. "I'll trust your opinion on portals any day, Donatello."

The purple clad turtle stretched out before looking back up to his elder brother. "You should trust your own opinion and get some sleep." He offered a reassuring little smile.

Leo leaned forward, stretching his shoulders a bit. "I'm working on it." He even offered an adequate grin that it contented Donatello enough to roll over and fall asleep. Leonardo stood up, switching off the last of the lamps and sat back down on his bedroll.

**xXx**

"You would think a turtle could get a moment's peace." Raph grumbled to himself, glaring at the direction Michelangelo had retreated to. He leaned back and rolled his eyes, wondering who in their right mind would watch something entitled 'Slimezilla vs. Robomothra' in the first place. Then again if anyone was asking him, none of their mirrored guests was in their right mind.

There were times that the red wearing turtle felt more trapped than others, and this was one of them. Blame being a mutant raised in the sewers, but Raph was inherently mistrustful of new people, and that was considering all things normal. Having counterparts of yourself miraculously appear in your lair, and knowing that crazy ass scientists like Baxter Stockman were out and about made him downright paranoid about these guys. So while his bones itched to get out, feel the air on his skin and have some time to unwind, he was caught up in playing sentinel. He stared back at the television, grimacing.

Casey held that cable shows were crap at this time of night, but they didn't even get cable down in the sewers. Raph was stuck with the same four channels of retarded infomercials and sitcom re-runs from the 70's. He made a mental note to slap Casey next time he groused about late night television and groaned, rolling up to his feet. Staring over his shoulder at the outdated previews he rolled his eyes. "Of course they don't get off the island. They never get off the island, dumbasses." He walked over to the kitchen and pulled a soda out of the fridge, craking it open. There was a slight pause and the red clad turtle choked a little as he tried to down the entire can at once. _How could Mikey drink this stuff?_ It was disgustingly sweet.

Walking back towards the couch he realized that he hated the television for exactly the same reason Casey liked it. The background noise, which was comforting for others, grated on his nerves. It made him feel like the empty living room was somehow crowded. He vaulted over the back of the couch and snatched up the remote, briefly considering throwing it at the screen before taking a breath and punching the off button with a vengeance.

Slowly he let himself sink in to the broken cushions of the old couch, listening to the morose rattle of the refrigerator. _The fan must be dying_, he though ponderously to himself. _I should probably mention that to Don one of these days_. He leaned back a bit more, pleased that the couch still retained the amazing ability to mold itself in a shell-shaped indentation. _Hell, I could probably fix a fan. A fridge can't be harder to fix than a bike._

Slowly he engrossed himself in wondering how one might fix a fridge, until the day became a hazy blur and he nodded off on the couch.

**xXx**

Mikey tossed the latest issue of "Super Thunder Twins" off the bed and yawned. There were times when he wished life could be as interesting as the comic books; but this was not one of them. When your own real life seemed odder than the marvelous misadventures of two galaxy hopping, thunder totin' teens, it was time to put the comic books away.

He swung his legs down over the side of the bed, waggling them to and fro for a bit before deciding that his feet were made for walking; or at least that's what they wanted to do. Pushing the door open slowly so it wouldn't creak, the orange clad turtle slipped out of his room on tip toe, pausing at the threshold long enough to let his eyes adjust. Behind him, on silent padded paws Klunk twined past his legs and scampered down the hallway. Mike nearly called out for the cat before he remembered that his brothers were asleep, and might not enjoy a rude awakening. He clamped his hand over his mouth and kept an eye on Klunk as the kitten leapt ferociously at a dirt spot on the wall.

Satisfied that his pet wouldn't be causing any major trauma to the lair, the teenage terrapin applied his well-honed arts of ninja stealth to sneaking into the kitchen and raiding the fridge. Halfway across the kitchen he paused, perking his head up past the counter, furrowing his brow a bit. He could hear gentle snoring coming from the couch. _That's funny_ he pondered to himself. _I thought I was usually the one to fall asleep on the couch. Though I usually have the TV on when I do._ Slowly he peeked out of the kitchen, his mouth dropping open slightly to see Raph sprawled out of the couch. He chuckled to himself inwardly. Raph looked pretty innocent when he was zonked.

He made sure he was extra careful not to rattle the jars inside the refrigerator as he took out and unwrapped a chunk of left over coffee cake. Closing the door, he tiptoed over to the cabinet with napkins and paper towels to carefully pull a paper plate from the stack. With all of his treasures carefully balanced in his arms he turned to head back to his room with his ill gotten booty, the house still peacefully at rest.

That was when he heard the pitter patter of four energetic feet go tromping across the linoleum. Mike's eyes widened as he watched Klunk skitter past the kitchen, pause halfway into the living room, and turn his head directly towards the couch. Jumping sideways, the kitten dashed behind the television, and stretched; arching his back and waving his tail back and forth in short choppy flicks, ready to pounce. Mikey's eyes widened.

"No no no no no, Klunk! That's not me on the couch!" He pleaded quietly, dropping the cake on the table and waving to the cat. Klunk looked back at him with a touch of impudence and leapt on the back of the couch.

"Klunkers…" The orange turtle gave a whispered warning, walking towards the cat with his hands outstretched. Klunk stared back at him, obviously delighted that Mike was ready to play, and stared to run sideways along the back of the couch, dragging himself along by his claws. Raph gave a grunt in his sleep and rolled away from the noise as the younger turtle's eyes widened. "Bad cat… bad cat!" he breathed, starting to search for something to shoo him away from the couch.

Rummaging through the mess on the countertop his hands found Don's key chain. _What this?_ He thought to himself, picking up a small bullet shaped object. _Oooh, laser pointer_! He looked up from the counter and grinned at the mischievous kitten. "Hey Klunkers, guess what I have…"

Almost immediately after the red dot appeared on the carpet, Klunk was after it, chasing it around the edge of the living room and through the kitchen. Mike paused just long enough to grab his plate of cake, before rushing back down the hall, running the laser light just in front of him and Klunk tearing afterwards. All the way down the hall, up for a jump on the wall, back towards Mike's room, in the doorway, onto the bed, and then, click! The light turned off and Mike closed the door safely behind them both. Klunk stared up at his turtle, looking chagrined, as if he wanted to say 'hey, you took away my toy."

Mike sat down on the bed, petting the ginger cat lightly on the head. "I think that was a close enough call for one night, Klunk. How about you nap for now?"

Klunk tried to look hurt by the whole affair, but after a short period of pouting decided that curling up besides his favorite turtle wasn't such a bad idea after all.

**xXx**

Pa-dum-bum thunk.

Pa-dum-bum thunk.

It was funny how repetitive motions could be soothing to the soul. Even something as simple as tossing a tennis ball against the wall at different angles to see how well it bounced back to you had it's own curious attraction when your mind was wound up. And tonight it was just the thing Don needed to help him relax. He gripped the fuzzy neon ball, rubbing his thumb against the faded black letters pondering just how difficult it would be to build a dimension transporter. He bit his lip once before casting the ball at the wall again.

Pa-dum-dum thunk.

The problem wasn't just that he thought the physical laws of his own universe skewed his counterpart's basic scientific principles, but he didn't really know how moral it was to build such a device in the first place. What if dimensional transporter use was uncontrolled, or in the hands of someone like the Shredder? You could build up an entire army in an unprotected dimension only to step through a portal and conquer the enemies in your home dimension. The thought of such technology run rampant made his throat go dry. He frowned, tossing the ball into the air before throwing at back at the wall.

Pa-dum-bum thunk!

Still, it wasn't fair to these other turtles to prevent them from going home. They seemed rather lost here, and he was sure that their own home would be missing them. Yet they seemed so… sheltered to his mind. As if they lived in a universe where things were fundamentally stacked towards the side of good. It didn't make any decisions from Donnie's end any easier. He gave a soft sigh, and stared over at the flickering computer screen where he had drawn up some very basic preliminaries on how one might build a dimensional transporter. The simple lines of text glaring back at him like a boulder on his shoulders.

Pa-dum-bum…bum-bum… crash!

Donnie snapped his attention forward; rushing to grab a teetering pile of dishes his misplaced throw had knocked over. "Oh no…" he muttered to himself, hanging on to a stack of bowls as a drinking glass slid from the top of the stack and smashed on the floor. He let out a long breath, righted the pile he was holding and started to look for a broom and dustpan. The tennis ball rolled innocently across his path, coming to a rest beside a pile of books. Starting to sweep up the pile of glass he shook his head towards it. "I suppose I should stop thinking about it for tonight, right?"

The tennis ball didn't answer. The purple clad turtle dumped the chunks of glass in a brown paper bag, taped it up and set it in the garbage can, before lying down on his bed with a sigh. He reached over the side of his bed, picked up the ball and stared at it for a while. "Tennis balls don't make very good conversationalists, do they?" he queried slightly, more to himself than anything before tossing the ball to a corner of the room and flicking out the light.

**xXx**

Leo was meditating. Or he was trying to meditate at least.

He knew he needed to focus his thoughts so tomorrow he could be the mediator between the two groups of turtles, and so when they broke apart he had settled himself on the floor, in the most basic meditation posture Splinter had ever taught them, and started to concentrate. Calm. Focused. He pored all of his energy into his core, and then released it through his breath. He was just about to release a long, pent up breath when what sounded like a small army came marching down the corridor.

Coughing slightly as he tried to regain an even breath cycle, he turned to the doorway, only to hear the sound again. With his mind focused inwardly he had thought it might have been brothers running towards his door, ready to wake him for some traumatic emergency. Hearing it again while he was listening, the sound clarified into the sounds of an all too energetic kitten romping down the hallway. "Mikey…" he grumbled slightly, starting to get to his feet. He was debating just how cross he should sound when he told his youngest brother to take his cat inside and get some sleep when he heard the door click shut, and the pattering of little feet stopped.

Leo sighed, settling back down into his position, and resuming his meditation. It was always difficult for him to be interrupted, but slowly as he got older he was learning to deal with it. He had to, otherwise he figured he would be like Raph – always trying to get away and seek solace elsewhere. The true test for Leo was to find solace in the middle of the chaotic lair.

He took in a deep breath and concentrated again. In his mind he could still Master Splinter teaching him the very basics about meditation. It was comforting, to be able to remember such things. It made Leo feel like he wasn't alone while he was trying to lead – and there were many time when he felt like he was alone, if not downright unpopular being the leader.

When his mind was clear, he stood and stretched, drawing himself slowly upwards to allow his spine to align itself, and his limbs to relax. He shook the tension of the day out of his hands and feet, and crawled placidly into bed. Turning out the light, he started to make a mental schedule for the next day.

He jerked awake when he heard the crash, though he hadn't really even fallen asleep yet. Blinking in the darkness he fumbled for the light, and hopped out of bed, listening for any signs of a commotion. All was quiet, and it caused the elder brother to furrow his brow. Slowly he opened the door.

He could hear Raph snoring on the living room couch, and Mikey murmuring to himself in his sleep. The library was similarly quiet, nothing seeming out of the ordinary from the newcomers. Slowly he turned towards Don's room. He could just make out a sliver of light from underneath the doorway. He was just about to go check on his brainy brother when he made out the sound of glass being swept up, and a few seconds later the light shut off.

Leo gave a very long sigh, and slowly shut his door, listening to make sure everything was still all right before he headed back to his own bed. He forgot about planning his schedule, and allowed himself to indulge in his earliest memories of play-training with his brothers and Master Splinter as he drifted off to sleep.

**xXx**

Something about this place bothered him. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that the colors were brasher, or the smells danker, or if it was just that everything seemed slightly rougher, but something nagged at Leonardo's mind as he lay in his bed, unable to sleep.

Maybe it was the attitude of the other turtles. He hadn't expected them to be so paranoid. But moreover he was surprised at how easily he was starting to see their perspective. He had spent a long time going through his mind of all the meetings of strange creatures, thinking about how almost every problem could be solved by sitting down, sharing a pizza and talking about it.

And then it hit him that things didn't always happen that way. If someone like Shredder had deceived him, he might have mistrusted all the strangers he met. If the world didn't play fair, he might have grown harsher to be able to deal with it. Part of him was proud to have come to such a conclusion so quickly, but the other half felt like the look Michelangelo gave him before. This wasn't fun anymore. He wanted the world to go back to the way he had known it.

He laid his head back down, closing his eyes, listening to his brothers' breath. That was the one spot of hope for him in this whole mess. They were still all there together. The more he thought about it that was the greatest strength they had going for them. Slowly he turned his thoughts from question of what made his counterparts the way they were to promises that he would stick by his own brothers no matter what.

He smiled to himself lightly and sunk into sleep.


End file.
